


Death Of A Hero

by scriptophobia



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Flirting, Gun Violence, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Robbery, Vigilante Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, please please PLEASE tell me if i missed something, virgil has a bow and arrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriptophobia/pseuds/scriptophobia
Summary: This is not how Virgil would’ve liked to spend his Saturday night, but such is the life of a vigilante, unfortunately.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	Death Of A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> hey you! yes, you! please please PLEASE heed the warnings in the tags, she's a sad one boys.
> 
> hmu on tumblr @heavenly-roman!!

This is not how Virgil would’ve liked to spend his Saturday night, but such is the life of a vigilante, unfortunately. 

“Put the weapon down,” Virgil commands calmly, commending himself for not letting his fear show in his voice. He adjusts his grip on his bow and arrow, using it to gesture to the ground. He feels his smirk grow as the perps eyes widen and his hands fly up, slowly lowering his gun to the ground. His smirk falters, however, when he realizes it’s not because of himself, but because of  _ him _ . 

Officer Prince stands beside him, his gun pointed at the robber. His face is stern, focused, and it takes Virgil a second to realize that he’s talking to him.

“-seriously, Storm, this is  _ dangerous _ , why are you even here?” Prince asks, and Virgil scoffs.

“Are you kidding me? The city is in danger and I’m here to stop it, Detective Dipshit.”

“That’s what the police are for, Emo Hawkeye,” the officer retorts. 

“And let everyone get killed before you dumbasses get here? I don’t think so, Bitch with a Badge.” Virgil moves towards the robber, before looking back and realizing the cop wasn’t following him. He rolls his eyes, asking, “Are you going to arrest him, or do I have to do everything myself?”

Prince shakes his head fondly, “Uh, yeah, I should… do that.”

Virgil gives him a look, one that he hopes conveys  _ no shit _ . Rolling his eyes again, he lowers his weapon as the officer cuffs the robber. The vigilante waits for him to finish his task and sit the criminal down, and then proceeds to lean his elbow on the shorter man’s shoulder. “So, feel bad that I did your job for you again?”

“Hardly,” Prince shoves Virgil’s elbow off of him. “Now, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a job to do.”   
  
Virgil raises an eyebrow. “You mean the job I just did?” 

“No, Robert Downer Jr., the paperwork and the putting-the-bad-guy-in-jail job,” Prince scoffs.

“You’re really loving the marvel nicknames today, aren’t you, Inspector Clueless?”

“You’re trying to be a superhero, so you get superhero nicknames,” the cop shrugs.

“I’m a vigilante, big difference.”   
  
“Sure there is, Superman.”

“Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Thought you already did it for me?” Prince’s satisfied smirk makes its way onto his face, causing Virgil to groan. Prince starts walking towards a group of approaching officers, clearly proud of himself, when Virgil speaks without thinking.

“Wait,” He calls, jogging to catch up, occasionally looking back at the perp to insure he’s still there. At Prince’s raised eyebrow, he continues. “I, uh, wanted to know if… okay, look this is really weird for me, I don’t even know if you’re gay, I-”

“Yes, I’ll go out with you, Storm.” Prince interrupts.

“Really?” Virgil’s shocked look earns a chuckle from Prince, which in turn makes Virgil pout. “Don’t laugh at me, Prince.”

“Roman.”

“Roman?” The name feels strange on his tongue, but it’s the right kind of odd.

“That’s my name. Figured you should know it if we’re going on a date,” Roman shrugs. “And yours?”

“Not so fast, Roman, I like to take things slow.” he slings his arm around Roman’s shoulders. “ _ Real _ slow.”

“So that means you’re not taking off your mask anytime soon?” the officer asks, once again removing Virgil’s arm from his body.

“Not in your wildest dreams, Princey,” Virgil laughs. He moves towards the robber, intending to bring him to the nearest cop car, when he hears a shout and a loud  _ bang. _

“Storm, look out!”

In a flash, Virgil finds himself on the ground, and with a heavily breathing Roman on top of him. Virgil teases, “Woah, Roman, on top of me before the first date? I thought I said I took things slowly.”

Roman lets out a humourless chuckle, “Yeah, uh, sorry, I just- you were almost shot.”

Virgil’s eyes widen, and he whips his head to the side, surprised to see a second and third robber running from the onslaught of officers. Pushing Roman off of him, Virgil jumps into action, pointing his bow and arrow at one of the criminals. “Drop your weapon, hands on your head.”   
  
The criminal scoffs before freezing, feeling Roman’s gun at the back of his head. “He said,” Roman coughs out. Virgil thinks he must’ve hit the ground too hard and knocked the wind out of himself. “To drop the gun.”

Letting the gun fall, the criminal drops to his knees while Roman signals another officer to cuff him. Virgil peers around the corner to see the third perp flat on the ground, his hands roughly being moved to the small of his back. Turning back around, all the blood drains from his face when he sees Roman leaning against a wall, face devoid of colour, and a blank look in his eyes. His vision trails down to Roman’s torso, where his hand is pressing into his side, and his shirt is covered in blood. 

Approaching quickly, Virgil sucks in a sharp breath at Roman’s clearly laboured breathing. Rapid fire, he spits out his immediate questions. “Roman, when did this happen? Are you okay? Have you called for a medic?” 

Roman slides down the wall, only minorly wincing when his shirt catches on the wall and rubs against his wound. His breathing slows, and Virgil can’t tell if it’s a good thing or not. Roman speaks quietly, “Ambulance has been called, no need to worry.”

“When did this happen?” Asks Virgil, crouching down to examine Roman’s side. 

“Remember that time when you almost got shot?”

Virgil pauses his actions and frowns. “Are you telling me that-”

“I got shot while protecting a civilian? Yes, I did.”

“Roman-”

“I’m serious, no matter how much you try to be a superhero-” Roman shifts, leaning more of his back against the wall. He breathes deeply, and, to his credit, barely makes a face of pain whilst he does so. “No matter how much you try to be a superhero, you’re not. You’re a civilian, and I’m a police officer. I’ll get a shiny badge for this, whereas you’d just get hospital bills.”

“I don’t like that you did this for me,” Virgil admits. His voice is small, and if he were someone else, he would admit to the few tears running down his cheeks. He moves to add pressure to Roman’s side, quietly apologizing when he hisses. “I know you would’ve done it for anyone, but you should’ve… you should’ve let me take it.”

“Yeah, fat chance, Panic! At The Everywhere. No way I’m letting you get shot because you have some ego to protect,” Roman rolls his eyes, and Virgil sees a stray tear before Roman wipes it away and plasters on his false bravado. 

“Virgil.”   
  
“Virgil?”

“That’s my name. Figured you should know it if we’re going on a date,” Virgil shrugs.

“Or if I’m dying in your arms,” Roman responds, laughing to himself, which then morphs into a cough. He pulls his hand away, dramatically motioning to the blood on his palm. “It’s like all of those murder mystery movies, where the host coughs into their hankercheif and then they pull it away to reveal blood.”

“Figures you’d watch those movies. And you’re  _ not  _ dying in my arms, Roman.”

“You’re right,” Roman moves himself to lay in Virgil’s lap. With some strain, he pulls one of Virgil’s arms around his waist. “ _ Now _ I’m dying in your arms.”

“Roman, goddamnit, this is not something to joke about!” Virgil cries. He presses down on the wound again, making the man in his lap groan in pain. He pulls his mask off, attempting to use it as a tourniquet. He pretends to ignore Roman staring at his face. “Fuck, shit,  _ fuck, _ I have to do  _ something _ , you’re dying because of  _ me _ -”

“Virgil,” Roman coughs. He reaches up and wipes the free flowing tears from Virgil’s face. “It’s okay, there’s nothing you can do.”

“There- There should be  _ something, _ I-”

“Hey, gorgeous, look at me,” Roman smiles weakly. “You can do something, okay? I’ll give you something to do to help.”

“Please,” whimpers Virgil.

“Just-” Roman’s coughs are hacking now, and despite the blood dripping down his chin, Virgil can’t help but realize how truly  _ beautiful _ this man is. “Just hold me.”

Virgil nods, cradling the man who saved his  _ life _ . He lets out a soft, “yeah?” when Roman says his name again.

Roman smiles weakly. “Sing to me?”

“Okay,” Virgil whispers. He sings the first song that comes to mind. “ _ That night I put my youth in a casket, and buried it inside of me. That night I saw through all the magic, now I'm a witness to the death of a hero _ .”

“Your voice is soothing, it’s nice,” Roman mutters. He closes his eyes and hums along with Virgil’s singing.

“ _ I burned all the pictures in the attic, and threw away the magazines. That night I saw through all the magic, now I’m a witness to the death of a hero _ .”

Roman’s face goes slack, and Virgil panics. “Roman, wake up,  _ please _ , this isn’t funny, wake up Roman, wake  _ up _ !” he slaps Roman’s cheek, but he doesn’t stir.

Virgil is sobbing now, clutching onto Roman’s limp body like a lifeline. He’s getting blood all over himself, it’s sticky and warm, but it’s Roman’s, and so he’ll suffer. Violent thoughts dance through his mind, mostly of revenge on the asshole who shot at him, but he ignores them in favour of petting Roman’s hair.

Eventually, the paramedics - when did they get here? - tell him to step aside, and that they need access to the body. Virgil wants to scream at them, how  _ dare _ they show up too late, and then refer to Roman as just a  _ body _ ? He refrains, however, and asks for just one more minute with him, please. They oblige, although begrudgingly, and leave him be.

The only thing Virgil can think to do is to sing.

“ _ The death of a hero, he couldn't be saved, now I'm cutting the grass and I'll cover his grave.  _ _ I'll cover his grave. The death of a hero, I'm turning the page, now I'm cutting the grass and I’ll cover his grave. I'll cover his grave. _

_ That night I put my youth in a casket and buried it inside of me. That night I saw through all the magic, now I'm a witness to the death of a hero. I burned all the pictures in the attic, and threw away the magazines. That night I saw through all the magic, and now I'm a witness to the death of a hero _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to end me if you see a typo, and please let me know if i missed anything in the tags!!
> 
> comments and kudos make my day <3
> 
> [ if you liked this, consider buying me a coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/lextriestowrite)


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